


Like Fire and Water

by Setari



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Book 2: Earth, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family Drama, Grief/Mourning, Secret Marriage, Step-parents, Step-siblings, Worldbuilding, ignoring comic canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-01 05:07:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11479245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Setari/pseuds/Setari
Summary: Hakoda and Ursa got married several months ago, and have been living together in Ba Sing Se ever since in happily wedded bliss. They knew they'd have to tell their children eventually, they just hadn't expected it to happen all at once. Nor that their kids would already know each other.





	1. Katara

Katara and Toph had lost their escort somewhere around the spa, and Toph was adamant about taking the opportunity to explore the city a little. Katara wasn’t really sure what she thought they’d gain by that, but Toph had convinced her by suggesting they take a train out from the lower ring to see what the Ba Sing Se docks were like. A chance to do some actual water-bending was a chance too good to pass up, so there they were, waiting in the station for the next train heading to the outer wall.

“There’s so many people here.” Katara murmured, watching the ebb and flow of people with fascination. “I never thought there could be this many people in the _world_ , never mind in one city.” Toph snorted, more in response to Katara’s tone than her words, she thought. Katara found the city amazing, if somewhat unnerving, but Toph _hated_ it here, and made no effort to hide her contempt.

“Ba Sing Se is a marvel.” The woman seated on the next bench along remarked, offering Katara a kind smile. She was pretty, despite looking vaguely worn, worry lines beginning to make their home around her eyes. Her dress was a dark green, and well fitting, although it too looked a bit worn around the edges, and her dark brown hair was up in one of those practical buns at the nape of her neck that Katara saw all over the place in the lower ring, and never once saw anywhere in the upper rings.

“It’s _something_ , but I wouldn’t call it a marvel.” Toph groused. “More like a deathtrap.”

Katara elbowed her friend, but thankfully the woman didn’t seem offended, only amused and faintly indulgent. “You can marvel at a landslide or a sandstorm, it doesn’t make it any less dangerous.” She pointed out.

Toph’s eyebrows flew up, but she was smiling. “Heh, yeah. Alright.” She capitulated.

“Besides,” the woman went on, “it must be quite a shock to a young woman from the Water Tribe. I hear even their capital city in the north is smaller than one of the Earth Kingdom’s cities, and Ba Sing Se is several times the size of places like Omashu.”

Katara was a little surprised that this woman seemed to know even that much about the Tribes, but she supposed she shouldn’t be. It was, after all, only the war that people weren’t allowed to talk about. And they did have a university here. “I’m from the Southern Tribe, anyway.” She said with a rueful smile. “Cities at all came as a pretty big shock to me.”

“The Southern Tribe?” The woman asked, startled. Katara blinked at her, surprised by her surprise. Then she shocked Katara further by smiling wryly and asking. “Which one?”

No one outside of the Southern Tribes ever seemed to remember that there was more than one. There were at least six, and though they had been united against the Fire Nation since before Katara had been born, they were certainly nothing like the unified Tribe of the North. “The Whale-shark Tribe.” She said, and it felt so strange, to identify herself that way, when for most of her life, it hadn’t mattered if she was Whale-shark or Tiger-seal or Arctic Wolf-fox, because she was _Southern Water Tribe_.

“Hakoda’s Tribe?” The woman asked.

Katara straightened, every part of her coming to attention at hearing her father’s name. “Yes. You know my dad?” She asked intently, and saw the woman’s eyes – an amber-brown so light they were almost gold, and that sent an instinctive chill down Katara’s spine – go wide as her mouth dropped open.

After a long moment, in which Katara thought she was going to vibrate out of her own skin, the woman pulled herself together, and nodded. “You must be Katara, then.” She said, sounding dazed. Katara nodded, feeling equally out of sorts. “I-”

In that moment, the grinding screech of stone on stone announced the arrival of the train, cutting off anything else the woman might say. It was followed by a noisy rush of people that made picking up their conversation difficult. The woman got to her feet, craning her head to see over the crowd, but she didn’t go far, and she kept glancing at Katara, as if to make sure she was still there.

And then Katara realised why.

“Hakoda!” The woman called, with a surprisingly elegant wave. Katara got to see her father’s expression light up as they landed on her, then watched his gaze follow that motion down and sideways, until it landed on Katara. He stumbled, shock giving way to a smile as he shoved his way through the crowd. Katara jumped to her feet as he cleared the bustling mob, and all but fell into her dad’s welcoming arms.

“Dad!” She gasped out, bewildered, but too happy to care in that moment.

“Katara.” Hakoda breathed, awe and confusion and delight in every syllable. “What are you doing here?” He asked as he drew back, holding her by the shoulders to stare at her. He glanced at the woman, as if _she_ might have an answer for him, but she only shrugged.

“Did Bato tell you-”

“That you’re travelling with the Avatar?” Hakoda finished for her. “Yes, he mentioned it.”

Katara nodded. “Well-” She began, then shook her head. “No, wait, what are _you_ doing here?” She echoed, frowning.

“Our fleet has been helping protect the waters around Ba Sing Se, keeping the Fire Nation away from the refugees as they make their way into the city.” Hakoda explained with a wry smile. “Is Sokka with you?” He asked, hopeful.

“Not right now.” Katara admitted. “He’s in the Upper Ring with Aang. But he’ll be so happy to see you, Dad, we can get there in a few minutes, the trains here are so fast, and you _have_ to meet Aang, he’s amazing, and- Oh! Oh, I’m sorry. Dad, this is Toph, she’s Aang’s earth-bending teacher.”

Hakoda smiled, and stepped back enough to face Toph and nod respectfully. “Nice to meet you, Toph.” He greeted.

“Yeah, you too.” Toph replied, and she sounded sincere.

Then the woman stepped up by Hakoda’s side and touched his arm lightly. When he glanced at her, she gave him a prompting look that was more amused than chiding. Toph whistled under her breath, the one that meant ‘oh boy, you’re in trouble’. She usually used it when Sokka had done something stupid and Katara was about to tell him off, but Sokka wasn’t here, so…

“Ah, right.” Hakoda said, with a hint of a playful grimace. “Obviously, you’ve realised this is my daughter, Katara.” He said to the woman, who nodded, and Hakoda cleared his throat. Distantly, as if through a fog, Katara realised that her dad was _nervous_. “Katara, this is, ah… Xia.” He said, and stopped, suddenly enough that Katara _knew_ he’d been about to say more.

“Xia.” Katara repeated, her tone flat. Because there was a horrible suspicion growing in the back of her mind, but… no. No. It _couldn’t_ be, it just _couldn’t_ , because that would mean that- that Dad had forgotten about _Mum_ , and he _wouldn’t_. He would _never_ , because Mum had been the heart of their family, the centre of their _world_ , and to just throw that away was _impossible_.

Hakoda nodded. “Your step-mother.” He added finally.

There was a strange buzzing noise in Katara’s ears, and the world suddenly felt very far away. “My _what_?” She asked, in a voice that sounded remarkably calm to her own ears. There must have been _something_ of the howling storm that had taken up residence in her chest in it, though, because Hakoda winced. Xia just looked sad.

“Your step-mother.” Hakoda said again.

“No.” Katara said, before she was fully aware of opening her mouth. Her father had the nerve to look a little taken aback. Rage bubbled up in her like acid, searing through her and spilling out of her in an uncontrollable wave. “ _She_ isn’t _anything_ to me, and she certainly isn’t _my mother_! How _dare_ you?! You were supposed to be out here _fighting_ the people that _killed_ my mother, not _replacing her_ with some dirt-stomping _floozie_!”

Hakoda’s jaw went tight, and his brown furrowed. “Katara!” He snapped. The fact that he only reacted to an insult to his brand new wife instead of any sort of grief for Kya or apology to Katara or _anything_ made her blood boil.

“It’s alright, Hakoda.” Xia interrupted, before Katara could start yelling again. “I’m sorry, Katara. We never meant to spring this on you like this, and I would never want to replace your mother-”

“Except you _have_.” Katara spat before she could finish, not wanting to hear the rest of her kind, pretty words when she made clear lie of them by standing at her father’s side when that’s where Katara’s _mother_ should be. “You’ve just swooped in and _erased_ her, like she didn’t even _matter_!” She rounded on her dad again. “And you _let her_! How _could you_?! Didn’t you love Mum at all?!”

“Of course I did, Katara.” Hakoda sighed. “And I still do.”

“Then how could you _betray her_ like this?!” Katara demanded.

And there, finally, was the reaction Katara had been looking for. Pain and grief and guilt clear as day on her dad’s face. Seeing it didn’t bring the satisfaction she expected, though. It only made her fury twist inwards. Because she wanted him to hurt like she hurt, but she didn’t want to hurt him, and it didn’t make any sense, and she didn’t know how to make it _right_.

“Kya is dead.” Hakoda said, solemn and sad, but that didn’t stop the words hitting Katara like a physical blow. She reeled, not because it was news, or because she didn’t think the same thing often enough herself, but because her dad was saying it like it was an answer, like it was an _explanation_. “It is not a betrayal to find ways to keep living and loving despite that loss.”

“You-” Katara tried to speak, but that was all she managed before her throat closed up. Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. “You can’t just _say that_ like it-” There were words, to express what she meant, how she was feeling, she knew there were, but she couldn’t _find them_.

“Okay!” Toph said loudly. “I think we could all use a time out, here.”

Hakoda sighed, and nodded. “I think you’re right.”

“Of course I am.” Toph stated boldly. “So, where can we find you, once we’ve calmed down and told Sokka you’re here?” Hakoda gave her an address, one that Katara knew was in the lower ring, and part of her wanted to take him with her when they went back to the upper ring, because he was her dad, part of her tribe, and tribe belonged together. But Xia wasn’t tribe, _couldn’t be_ , and if Dad came with her now, so would _she_ , and Katara didn’t think she could stand that. “Alright. We’ll see you soon. Come on, Sugar Queen.” Toph caught her arm and towed her away.

Katara went only reluctantly. Part of her wanted to stay because she’d missed her dad, but part of her _hated_ that she wanted that, and part of her wanted to stay just to yell at him some more, but part of her just wanted to curl up and cry. She couldn’t quite bring herself to look away from her father, even as Toph dragged her out of the exit. Just before they were lost to sight, she saw her dad turn and pull Xia into an embrace, the way she could remember him holding _Mum_ after a long day.

It hurt. It hurt like losing her mother all over again. And she wanted to hate her dad for that, but she couldn’t, quite, because she’d missed him so much, and now he was finally _here_.

She barely noticed the journey back to the upper ring, only realised where they were when Toph opened the door to the house where they’d been staying and all of a sudden, Sokka was right in front of her, a worried frown on his face as he asked “Katara? What’s wrong?”

Katara swallowed. “Dad’s here.” She said.

Sokka brightened for half a heartbeat, then immediately sobered, worry outweighing everything. “So what’s _wrong_?” He pressed.

“Dad’s here,” Katara said again, and as she thought it, all her fury came rushing back and filled her next words with venom, “with his _new wife_.”

Sokka stared at her. Blinked. Stared some more. “His what?” He finally squeaked, voice going almost comically high in his shock. He didn’t wait for an answer though, just cleared his throat, and asked another question. “How… how did _that_ happen?”

“I don’t know.” Katara admitted through gritted teeth. “I was a bit too busy yelling at him to bother asking _how_ he found his replacement for Mum.”

Sokka flinched. That surprised Katara enough to shake her out of her anger for a moment. “That’s not fair, Katara.” Sokka said softly, frowning like she’d hurt _him_ by saying that. Guilt and confusion and righteousness warred inside her, and only made her angrier.

“Not _fair_?!” She echoed incredulously.

“Yeah.” Sokka confirmed, in that quiet-but-sure way he had when he was really, genuinely serious about something, not just fighting with her because that’s what siblings did. “Not fair. Okay, so I don’t know this lady, and that’s…” He swallowed again, and shook his head. “That’s pretty weird, and unnerving, but… if Dad’s… if he’s sure enough about her that he- Huh, wait, do they even have the Marriage Dance in the Earth Kingdom?”

“Well, we dance at weddings, but the way you said that, I’m thinking no.” Toph interjected, like any of this was important at all. “It’s not required for a marriage to be legally binding. That’s the contracts and the brideprice. We _celebrate_ with flowers and food and dancing, but it’s not necessary. How does it work in your tribe?”

“Huh. We just have the Marriage Dance. That’s… pretty much it. You dance it together, in front of the rest of the tribe, and then you’re married. Some people don’t even do that. I mean, if you’re living together, most of the tribe will count you as married. Some people court with hand-made gifts and stuff, but…” Sokka trailed off with a shrug.

“Oh, don’t even get me started on _courting_.” Toph announced with a dramatic shudder. “Although, maybe it’s different if you’re not noble. I heard some stuff at the rumbles that made me think it was only my parents and the other nobles that were like that.”

“Like how the Northern Tribe has different customs to us?” Sokka wondered.

“Maybe.” Toph agreed.

“And I guess Air Nomads didn’t do marriages, huh?” Sokka mused “Since you were all monks and nuns and stuff.”

“Not really? I don’t know much about it, cause that was _grown-up_ stuff.” Aang replied. Then he cast a look over at Katara. “Uh… Katara? Are you okay?”

“No! I don’t understand how you can be talking about- about _marriage customs_ , when Dad’s gone and just forgotten about Mum so he could shack up with some- some Earth Kingdom waster!” Katara burst out. “And you’re just okay with that?! You’re more worried about the fact that she doesn’t know the Marriage Dance than that Dad’s betraying Mum’s memory?! Just because she’s _dead_ then it’s fine to act like she was never there in the first place?! Well, _I’m_ not going to let some interloper steal Mum’s place, even if _you_ don’t seem to give a damn that she’s-”

“ _You’re not the only one who loved Mum!_ ” Sokka yelled.

The whole house went deadly silent. Katara stared at her brother, shocked, and hurt. All her rage seemed to fall away from her, replaced with an ache that just wouldn’t stop. “I’m not- I didn’t say-” She tried, but Sokka cut her off with a slash of his hand through the air.

“Yes, you did. That’s exactly what you said! You said the only way Dad could have married this woman was if he didn’t care about Mum, that the only way I could be okay with it was if _I_ didn’t care about Mum! Well, you’re _wrong_. You _know_ you’re wrong, because you _know_ just how much Dad loved Mum, you _know_ -” Sokka’s voice broke, and he stopped to breathe for a moment before he pressed on. “We love her just as much as you do. But, damn it, Katara, do you think Mum would want us to be _miserable_ with missing her for the rest of our lives? After all the effort she put into keeping Lusa from throwing herself off an iceberg after Ao died? Do you remember some of the stuff she said then, because I do!”

“Grief is important, but when life moves on, you have to move with it, or it’ll strand you on the ice for the polar leopards’ breakfast.” Katara quoted from memory, her voice sounding hollow and empty even to her own ears.

“Yeah.” Sokka confirmed.

“But-” Katara began, and couldn’t find words through the sobs that were suddenly wracking her frame. Sokka wrapped her in a tight hug, the sort of hug that felt like warm furs and a fire during the long summer night. “I just… I don’t understand.” Katara sobbed.

“I guess we never did give you a chance to grieve properly, did we?” Sokka asked softly. Katara sniffed and pulled back to stare at him in confusion. “Me and Dad, we were wretched those first couple of years without Mum, but you… you picked yourself up and kept moving. You and Gran-Gran, you took care of us after Mum died, gave us space to just miss her lots, but… who was taking care of you, so that you could be a wreck with missing Mum?”

“I-…” Katara began, then stopped. Sokka grimaced knowingly, and pulled her back into the hug. Katara allowed herself a few minutes to accept the comfort and cry, but then she pulled herself together. “I supposed you’ll want to go and see Dad now, huh?” She asked Sokka.

“Well, yeah.” Sokka agreed, then hesitated. “But, I mean, you probably don’t want to right now, do you?” He asked shrewdly.

Katara smiled tiredly at him. “Not now. Maybe tomorrow, or… I think I need some time to… figure this out.” She admitted.

“Well, why don’t you and Aang stay here, and me and Snoozles can go to that address your dad gave us?” Toph suggested. “Before that Joo Dee comes back and starts following us around everywhere again.” She added with a sneer.

“Yeah! We can practice our waterbending out in the back garden.” Aang enthused, looking at Katara eagerly. It made her smile despite herself.

“Good plan, guys.” Sokka agreed. “Come on, Toph.”

“Right behind you.”


	2. Zuko

Zuko hated his job. He was bad with people on a good day, and he hadn’t had one of those for the last three years. Being forced to interact with dozens of people every day and be polite and ignore it when they were rude and keep a strangle hold on his temper, it grated. He liked it when the dishes piled up, so he could swap with Uncle and take his frustration out scrubbing cups and teapots. But then the orders would pile up, and Zuko would have to dry his hands and head out to take orders while Uncle rushed about making a dozen different types of tea at once.

Three new customers interrogated for their tea preferences, and Zuko was heading back into the kitchen with profound relief when he heard the little bell above the door go again. He wanted to groan and maybe slam his head into a wall a few times. It would be less painful than talking to _people_. He forced himself to keep going on pure force of will, ducking into the kitchen to pass the orders off to Uncle, and to take the two cups of ginseng for one table, and the pot and three cups of Uncle’s special jasmine blend for another.

It was easy to spot the new customers as he stepped back out of the kitchen again, because one of them was wearing Water Tribe blue. Instinct had Zuko tensing, ready to fight, because where the Water Tribe was, the Avatar was never far behind- Except no, this was an adult man, and just beyond him Zuko could see dark green sleeves with feminine patterns at the hems and long dark hair.

Of course, he reminded himself, rolling his eyes and forcing himself to get back to work, the Avatar had convinced the Northern Tribe to end their long seclusion. It was probably going to become a much more common sight, Water Tribe Blue. Although, a warrior – undoubtedly fighting in the war against the Fire Nation – in Ba Sing Se was an odd sight, given the pretence everyone was expected to keep up here. And that was another thing that pissed Zuko off. He might never have been great at politics, not nearly as good as Azula, but even he knew that denying the war wasn’t going to lead anywhere good.

He put down the tea pot, passed out the three cups, and turned to deliver the other order before going over to see what the Water Tribe and his date wanted. Except as he stepped around another table, the angle changed enough for him to catch a glimpse of said date out of the corner of his eye.

The tray slipped out of his hands, and he fumbled to catch it, even as he turned his head to look again, because he had to be wrong. She just look _like_ \- She wasn’t _actually_ \- It had happened before, just after- Seeing her where he _knew_ she couldn’t be, just because someone had the same shape of jaw, or slant of eyes.

He’d _just_ gotten a proper hold on the tray again when he focused on the woman smiling across the table at the Water Tribe warrior, and his extremities went numb. She looked _exactly_ the same as when he’d last seen her, except for the handful of tiny changes that convinced him this was _real_ , not a hallucination brought on by grief.

There was an almighty crash, as the tray hit the ground on its edge, sending the two cups flying, hot tea spilling over floorboards and table and chair legs and people’s ankles. Ceramic shattered as it hit the floor, accompanied by a shout of pain and anger, a scrape of wood on wood as the burned man leapt to his feet to glare at Zuko.

He didn’t notice any of it, because at the commotion, _his mother_ looked over and caught sight of him. Golden eyes went wide, and her mouth opened on a soundless gasp. It was her. It was actually her. There was no way an Earth Kingdom woman would have those eyes. But it couldn’t be her, because she was _dead_. Except, clearly, she wasn’t. She was here, in Ba Sing Se, with a Water Tribe man who was looking between them with surprise and dawning comprehension.

“ _Mum_?” Zuko croaked, not caring about the scene he was making. He couldn’t even _think_ about anything else.

Ursa opened her mouth, began to form the first syllable of his name, and cut off when the Water Tribe warrior caught her hand and squeezed. “Perhaps,” he said, in a level but carrying voice, designed to soothe a crowd of people without making it sound like he was shouting over them, “we should take this somewhere a little more private?” He suggested dryly.

Ursa winced, and nodded, all without taking her eyes off Zuko for a second. “I- Yes, that-” She began, and Zuko wanted to _cry_ , because that was his mother’s voice, and every second was just convincing him more and more that this was _actually happening_ , no matter how impossible it felt.

She was cut off, though, by Pao exclaiming “What is going on here?!” as he bustled over.

“I… Uncle?” Zuko called, because he couldn’t think of anything else to do. Except cry, but he wasn’t going to do that _here_ , in public. Ursa’s eyes widened, and the Water Tribe warrior visibly blanched. He went about three shades paler under his dark skin when Iroh finally pulled his head out of his tea and came over to answer Zuko’s plea.

He stopped when he caught sight of Ursa, staggering a little, and leaning on a nearby table for balance. He was quick to recover, though, sharp eyes darting from her to the Water Tribe man to Zuko to Pao and back again. “Sister!” He called, in tones of obvious relief and delight. “We thought you’d been killed by the- Well, it’s a great relief to see you well!” Most of the onlookers knew what Iroh hadn’t said, and understood enough to satiate their curiosity, returning to their tea with only mutters about the scene still unfolding in their midst. Zuko wished he knew how Uncle _did that_.

“Your sister?” Pao demanded waspishly.

Iroh began to expound on a story that was _almost_ true, and Zuko tuned him out. Ursa was getting to her feet and crossing the room to stand in front of him, her Water Tribe man following along behind her. And Zuko was going to ask about that, just as soon as he got over the shock, and the urge to cry, and all the _other_ questions he had, like ‘what happened’ and ‘where have you been’ and ‘why did you leave me behind’.

Ursa opened her mouth as she reached him, then closed it again sharply. Instead of speaking, she just reached out with shaking hands – more worn than he remembered them, but then, so were his own – to cradle his face in her palms. Her skin was warm and soft and _real_. She wasn’t a mirage, a mass hallucination, or a ghost of some kind. She was _real_ and _here_ and _alive_.

“Mum.” Zuko said again, screwing his face up to keep the tears back. He lifted a hand and caught hold of hers, touching, gripping, reassuring himself she was real.

“My son, my little boy.” Ursa sniffed, lips trembling, eyes damp. “Oh, look at you. You’ve grown up so much.” She said softly, and Zuko’s whole chest _ached_ with the force of his emotion. Grief and relief and delight and fear and even more he couldn’t name. Her fingers brushed the edge of his scar, and he flinched as her expression turned pained. “What-?” She breathed, but he could see in her eyes – as pain gave way to horror, and then _steel_ – that she could work out the answer for herself.

She was a fire-bender too. She knew how fire seared, how to tell the heat and angle and distance of an attack by the pattern of the scorch mark. Whether the target and the attacker were moving or stationary. And she knew, of course, that there were so very few fire-benders who would _dare_ to raise a hand against their Crown Prince. An Agni-Kai was the only place it was permitted, and for Zuko to have been still and on his knees…

Iroh stepped up beside them, laying a hand on each of their shoulders. “I’ve convinced Pao to give Lee the rest of the day off, so you can spend some time with your son, sister.” He explained. “We’ll catch up later, when I’m finished for the day.”

“Thank you.” Ursa murmured, tearing her eyes away from Zuko for only a moment to smile in grateful bewilderment at Iroh. He smiled back and patted both their shoulders.

“Our place isn’t too far from here.” Hakoda interjected. He rattled off an address that was the other direction from Zuko and Iroh’s apartment, but still so close as to make Zuko’s breath catch. It had been _luck_ , sheer, bloody _luck_ that had let them meet, even though they were less than a full city block away from each other. It _hurt_ , to think he might have missed her on pure chance, and gone on his way obliviously, still believing she was _dead_. “Come on, Xia, you can catch up at home, and your brother can join us when he’s finished his shift.”

Xia. Red sky. That was amusingly morbid and sneaky. Zuko found himself smiling before he realised, and his mother smirked back, pleased with herself. It brought a fresh surge of emotion, and he blinked back tears before they could fall, and let Iroh and the Water Tribe man ushered both shell-shocked mother and son towards the door. “That’s very kind of you,” Iroh was saying cheerily, and then they were out on the street, and the Water Tribe man was left to chivvy them along on his own.

Zuko was well trained enough that he didn’t trip over his own feet as they walked, but it was a near thing, because he just couldn’t stop _looking_ at his mother to remind himself that she was there and this was real. Questions raced through his mind, but he bit his tongue on them like he bit back the tears, because he knew he wouldn’t get any honest answers until they were well away from prying eyes and ears. Only once they were in private could they speak of _anything_ that was really true.

A few streets later, and Zuko found himself being led up into a small, neat little apartment. The main room was neat, but decorated in a way that made Zuko’s head spin. The little shrine to the spirits in the corner boasted not just the sun-star mark of Agni, but the twin swirl of Tui and La, there was a pelt on the floor, instead of a tatami mat, and the low table was a good approximation of what one would find in the Fire Nation. The scrolls hanging on the walls, though, were all Earth Kingdom.

“Oh, Zuko.” Ursa sighed, the moment the door was soundly shut behind them. Then she was pulling him into a tight hug, and Zuko realised with a jolt that he was almost taller than her now. Still, he ducked his head and buried his face in her shoulder so he could cry without being seen. “Zuko, my baby. I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you too, Mum.” Zuko replied, and with those words, it was as if the floodgate had been opened, and all the rest just came pouring out. “I thought you were _dead_! What _happened_?! Where have you been?! Why would you-? Did you really k-kill-? Why didn’t you take me _with you_?”

“I’m so sorry.” Ursa murmured, her hands stroking over his hair and back the way she always used to, and Zuko choked on another sob. “I would have taken you if I could, both of you.” Ursa told him, leaning away just enough to meet his eyes, to let him see the conviction in her own. “It all happened so fast.”

Zuko swallowed hard. He’d put the pieces together long ago, but he’d been hoping, foolishly, that his mother would contradict him. “It’s my fault, isn’t it?” He asked hoarsely, even though he knew full well what the answer was.

“ _No_.” Ursa snapped, fierce with her intensity. Zuko startled, blinking at her in shock. Ursa drew in a steadying breath, and brushed hair away from his face, fingertips light against his scar, he knew, even though he couldn’t feel them. “No, it’s not your fault. None of this is your fault.”

“But if I hadn’t- If I’d just-”

“No.” Ursa said again, this time as hard and unyielding as steel. “Zuko, you were a _child_. Azulon is at fault. Ozai is at fault. Not you. You did _nothing wrong_.”

Zuko stared at her, wanting to believe her so badly it ached, but not quite convinced. A hand too large to be his mother’s landed on his shoulder, and he twitched in surprise, jerking his gaze towards the Water Tribe man, who met his wary gaze with a sombre stare. “You are not responsible for the evil done by others.” He said, firm, yet somehow still gentle enough for it to sound more like encouragement than reprimand. “Even if those others are related to you. Sometimes especially not then.” He remarked, with a hint of dry humour. “Ozai was determined to do harm, and just because you were the leverage he used to do that harm does not make that evil yours. It’s his, no one else’s.”

That made entirely too much sense, and it loosened something in Zuko’s chest that made breathing just a little bit easier. He eyed the man with wary respect, which only got sharper when he caught sight of the entirely too sweet and gentle way his mother was smiling at the man. He cleared his throat pointedly. “Right.” He said, trying not to let on that the words had actually helped. “And you are?” He asked, making sure that his voice was pointedly not friendly.

The Water Tribe man huffed out a rueful sigh, shot Ursa a look that was one part fond and one part resigned, like he was bracing himself for something. “Hakoda, of the Southern Water Tribe.” He said in greeting.

“Zuko, son of Ursa and Fire Lord Ozai.” Zuko replied. “But you already knew that.”

“I did.” Hakoda confirmed, glancing at Ursa again, this time with an expression that was openly and clearly pleading. Zuko looked at his mother as well, and relaxed against his will when he saw the obvious delight on her face. Playful glee at Hakoda’s discomfort was plain on her face, mischief and mirth shining in her eyes, and it suited her much better than the pain and determination Zuko remembered from the last time he’d seen her.

He rolled his eyes. “How did you even _meet_?” He complained. Hakoda’s shoulders relaxed a fraction, and Ursa shot Zuko a look of clear pride and gratitude. “I didn’t say I approved yet.” He groused, shooting a glower at Hakoda.

Ursa actually blushed a little. “I’m afraid it’s a little too late for familial disapproval to make much of a difference.” She admitted.

Zuko jerked back in shock. Instinctively, his eyes dropped to her waist, where he saw that, yes, she was carrying a blade. It wasn’t the traditional polished obsidian, for the cleanest, sharpest cut, but it was definitely the right size and shape… “Is that a _Marriage Blade_?!” He yelped.

“Yes.” Ursa confirmed. “Hakoda made it himself.”

“Whalebone.” Hakoda confirmed.

Zuko stared at him in open shock. “You made her a Marriage Blade.” He stated, the thought rather boggling his mind. He’d never exactly talked to anyone outside of the Fire Nation about their marriage customs himself, but it was well known that the Water Tribes and Earth Kingdom did _not_ allow their women to carry weapons – which Zuko thought wasn’t just barbaric, but _stupid_ – and that they thought as little of the custom as most of the Fire Nation thought of brideprices and stealing your wife.

Hakoda met his gaze squarely. “I did. And we danced the Marriage Dance under the light of the moon, just so Mother couldn’t object.” He added dryly.

“And signed a contract, so the marriage is legal here in Ba Sing Se.” Ursa concluded.

“You made her a Marriage Blade.” Zuko repeated, still stuck on that little detail.

“He did.” Ursa was the one to answer him this time, pulling the small dagger from her belt and holding it out to him. “Would you like to look at it?” She asked him. Zuko remembered her asking him that once before, when he was much, much smaller, and pestering her about the shiny black blade she always carried.

He nodded solemnly, and let her lay it in his hand, pointedly not taking it from her, or even closing his fingers around it until she’d let go. He got something of a free pass, being her son, but it was still a taboo to take a Marriage Blade from the woman who owned it. It was supposed to symbolise the last defence of her family, after all, taking it from her was the same as declaring an intent to see her children dead.

It dawned on Zuko, with a strange sick feeling, that the _other_ Marriage Blade his mother owned had probably been the weapon she used to kill his grandfather. Shaking the thought off, he looked down at the knife in his hand.

The blade was pale, bone white, while the hilt was some dark wood wrapped with black-dyed sinew. It was definitely a Water Tribe knife, but it had the traditional symbol of a Marriage Blade etched at the base of the blade. Zuko gave it back to his mother feeling strangely conflicted. It was nothing like the one his father had given her on their wedding day, but it was somehow even more significant.

“Okay.” He said.

“Whew.” Hakoda huffed, then grinned lopsidedly. “I was a little worried you were going to stab me with it for a moment there.”

Zuko squinted at him. “You don’t _use_ someone else’s Marriage Blade.” He informed the man.

“And you don’t use it unless children have been threatened.” Ursa added, then turned and knelt gracefully to sit at the table, beckoning Zuko and Hakoda to join her. “Come, sit, and tell me _everything_ that’s happened in the last six years.” She urged. “How have you been?”

Taking a deep breath, Zuko folded down to sit at the next side along from his mother, so that he was both beside her and facing her. Slowly, haltingly, he began to describe his life since his mother had vanished, and he was very glad when she reached over and clasped his hand in both of hers, just holding, offering the silent support and comfort he’d so missed all those years.


	3. Sokka

“Are you sure this is the place?” Sokka asked, squinting at the ragged old apartment building. It was sturdier than some of its neighbours, made of stone rather than wood, but it still looked as though it had seen better days.

“If this place is the address I gave you, then yeah.” Toph replied caustically.

Sokka winced. “Right, right, sorry.” He muttered. “It just doesn’t seem like the sort of place Dad would stay. I mean, he has his cabin on the ship. Oh, but I guess it’s more his… wife’s? Place?” Sokka trailed off, bewilderment stealing his voice.

It was just… strange for there to be a member of their family that he didn’t know. The only thing he knew about her was that she was Earth Kingdom, and called Xia, which Toph had told him on the way out to the lower ring. It was uncomfortable, and Sokka really wanted to meet her and get the awkward ‘welcome to the family, stranger’ stage out of the way. At the same time, he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to meet her. He’d told Katara it wasn’t fair of her to blame Xia or Dad, and he held to that, but he also felt a bit of discomfort at the idea of some new woman taking _Mum’s role_ in their family.

“If you say so? Usually women don’t own property in the Earth Kingdom.” Toph told him.

Sokka squinted at her. “You mean… Men run the house?” He asked, trying not to be judgemental. After all, if Kyoshi Island could train its women to fight, then it was entirely possible that their men took care of the house.

“Run it? No. That’s the wife’s job. Own it? Absolutely.”

“…There’s… a difference?” Sokka asked.

“Yes. Why’re you stalling?” Toph demanded.

“I’m not-!” Sokka began, and then stopped at the look Toph was giving him. It was unfair that she could do that, given that she couldn’t actually see him at all. “Okay, fine. I’m just… a little weirded out by all of this.”

“Does the Water Tribe not remarry?” Toph asked, scrunching up her face.

“No, we do. It’s just… not without the rest of the Tribe knowing who your new partner is and what they’re like and approving of them?” Sokka tried to explain. He didn’t feel like he was doing a very good job. “Ah, never mind. Come on.” He forced himself to step into the building, and climb the stairs to the right floor. He glanced up and down the corridor, trying to orient himself.

Toph tugged on his sleeve, pointing down the hall. “They’re on the left down that way.” She said. “There’s someone else in there, too, though. He seems familiar, but I can’t remember where from.”

“How…?” Sokka wondered, faintly awed.

Toph rolled her sightless eyes. “Earth-bending, Snoozles.” She told him scornfully. “I could tell you how many people are in this _building_ right now. The next room over isn’t exactly _stretching_ my abilities any.” She huffed, blowing her fringe away from her eyes, then stomped down the corridor to the door on the left, then stopped, arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently.

Grinning to himself, and shaking his head at the melodrama, Sokka followed, and turned to regard the door. From beyond it, he could just vaguely hear the sound of voices. A woman’s voice, he thought. With the sound of Toph’s foot still tapping away behind him, though, Sokka only gave himself two seconds to brace himself and gather his nerve. Then he knocked.

“I’ll get it, love.” His father’s voice said, only discernible because it was so very familiar.

The door opened, and there was Dad. He looked just like Sokka remembered, from that painful day two years ago when he left. A little older, maybe, or just more weather-beaten, and Sokka could count a couple of new scars on his bare arms. His face broke into a delighted smile when he saw Sokka, and Sokka was helpless to do anything but smile back. “Hi, Dad.” Sokka managed.

“Sokka. I wondered if you’d come today, or…” Hakoda said, then pulled Sokka into a hug without finishing his sentence or waiting for a response.

From inside the apartment, someone who was obviously _not_ Dad’s new wife made a strangled sound of… aggravation? Anger? Alarm? Sokka wasn’t entirely sure, but it was enough to make him look past his dad’s shoulder.

The apartment was nice, it had touches of home to it that made Sokka want to smile, and the pretty woman at the low table had to be this Xia person, but his attention was caught, and held, by the angry, scarred _jerk-bender_ on his feet next to the table, not _quite_ in a fire-bending stance, but still balanced on the balls of his feet, ready to attack.

“ _You!_ ” Sokka yelped, twisting out of his father’s hold to grab for boomerang.

“Sokka, what-?” Hakoda began.

“Zuko…!” Xia called, reaching out with a calming hand.

“Oh, _that’s_ why he seemed familiar!” Toph announced, thumping a fist down onto her palm in realisation. “I didn’t recognise you when you weren’t angry. Hey, is Uncle here with you?” She asked, sounding almost _eager_.

“I- No, he’s coming later- Never mind! What are you doing here?!” Zuko demanded.

“ _I_ came to see my dad! What are _you_ doing here?!” Sokka demanded right back.

Zuko went about three shades paler. “Your-” He began, then looked between Hakoda and Sokka rapidly, eyes slowly widening as the realisation sank in. Then he slapped a hand to his face. “Not peasants,” he muttered to himself, “ _children of the Chief._ I’m so stupid.”

Sokka snorted his agreement, which earned him a poisonous golden-eyed glare. He shrugged it off, because as long as Sparky wasn’t throwing fire, he didn’t actually feel all that threatened by him. “I guess you two know each other, then?” Hakoda asked warily, while gesturing for Sokka and Toph to come in.

Still on edge, Sokka did step inside, although he made sure never to get too close to Zuko, or to take his eyes off him. Zuko was gracing him with the same wary regard, although a lot of the hostility had bled out of him for reasons Sokka couldn’t figure out. “Know each other? You could say that. If getting chased across the _entire world_ by this fire-bending maniac counts as ‘knowing each other’, then sure. We know each other.”

“Chasing them across the world?” Xia asked, raising an eyebrow at Zuko. It was an oddly chiding expression, and Sokka shook off the ridiculous idea that she might be- No, she was _Earth Kingdom_.

Zuko looked away from Sokka finally, his expression reading as nothing more or less than _abashed_. “I told you. Father ordered me to capture the Avatar.” He stated defensively. Sokka swallowed hard because _that_ reaction made him think that his first thought had been right, and… Oh, hell. Looking at Xia again, he could see the resemblance. Not so much to Zuko, although it was there in the shape of his eyes and nose, but to Crazy Blue Fire. If you aged her up a bit, and took away the sneer that had been on her face the last time Sokka had seen her, then… yeah.

Xia – if that even was her real name – closed her eyes like she was praying for patience. “And Hakoda’s children are travelling with the Avatar. Oh, dear.” She murmured. She shot a look over at Hakoda; a helpless sort of ‘what do we do now?’ sort of look.

Hakoda slid the door shut behind Toph, and walked around her and Sokka to sit down at the table opposite… his _Fire Nation wife_. Sokka wished his could pick his jaw up off the floor to ask questions about that, or maybe just shriek incoherently for a while, but he was too busy trying to process to remember how to make his jaw muscles work. “I don’t suppose everyone would be willing to talk this out like reasonable people?” Hakoda wondered dryly, giving Sokka and Zuko a look that was caught somewhere between Dad and Chief. Sokka knew that look all too well, but apparently Zuko didn’t, because he actually leaned back a little, regarding Hakoda with wary nervousness.

“I-” Sokka began, his voice coming out far too high for his own comfort. “Wait, rewind. _You married the Fire Lord’s wife_?!” Sokka demanded, still too high, but at least it was more coherent. He paused, and thought about that. “Ex-wife?” He corrected, dubiously, casting a look across at… whatever her name really was. “Is your name really _Xia_?” He added.

“No, my name is Ursa.” She replied. Sokka nodded, then looked back to his dad, waiting for an answer to his first question.

Hakoda shrugged. “Seems so.” He replied, as if it didn’t matter at all.

Sokka gaped at him for a long moment, then shook his head. “Right.” He murmured in disbelief. Then, resigned, he trooped over and sat down between Hakoda and Ursa at the table. Toph, following his lead without much concern, flopped down a little behind him and to his right, sprawling out inelegantly as if she intended to take a nap. “Okay. _I’m_ willing to talk about this, I guess, but Katara is going to flip her _shit_ when she finds out. Just so you know.” He told his dad.

“More than she has already?” Hakoda asked wearily, and for a moment, Sokka could see acute pain and grief on his dad’s face. It was an expression he was too familiar with seeing on his dad, and he grimaced in sympathy.

“Uh, yeah.” He admitted reluctantly, scratching at the back of his head. “You marrying again is bad enough – she’s just not ready to move on yet – but… you marrying a _Fire Nation_ lady? When the Fire Nation _killed Mum_?”

“Would it help if she knew that I killed the previous Fire Lord?” Ursa asked, with the sort of dry chill Sokka had heard a few times from the people in Chief Arnook’s court, and more often from the nobles here in Ba Sing Se. It was cold, but still perfectly polite, and it could hide any number of unpleasant things. And it made Zuko wince. Or maybe it was the fact that his mum had just admitted to killing his grandfather. That had to be awkward.

“You… did?” Sokka asked hesitantly.

“Yes.” Ursa replied simply.

“Uh… why?” Sokka pressed, because from anyone else, the answer would have been obvious. He was the _Fire Lord_ , the biggest douchebag in the world. But this was the man’s daughter-in-law. Sokka had to wonder if Gran-Gran was in any danger.

To his surprise, it wasn’t Ursa that answered, but Zuko. “To protect me.” He said, finally sitting back down and staring at the table, not meeting anyone’s eyes. When Sokka glanced at Ursa to check if that was true, she nodded once, solemn and completely without remorse. Which was kind of a point in her favour, from Sokka’s perspective, although it still seemed slightly creepy.

“Then, uh… yeah, maybe? If you could get her to listen long enough to tell her.” Sokka mused, going back to Ursa’s original question. Zuko snorted in disbelief. Ursa give him a chiding look, but Sokka, reluctantly, had to agree with the moody bastard. “No, he’s right. It is _Katara_.” Sokka muttered. Zuko’s head jerked up to stare at him, and there was a moment of highly uncomfortable camaraderie between them. Sokka really wished it would stop.

“We’ll worry about Katara later.” Hakoda decided, leaning his forearms on the table, and glancing between Sokka and Zuko with a faintly pleased expression. “We’ll start by seeing if we can’t sort things out between you two, first. Yeah?” He prompted.

“Yeah.” Sokka agreed.

Zuko shrugged uncomfortably, then sighed. “I only wanted to capture the Avatar so that I could go home.” He stated, oddly fierce. Then he glanced over at his mother, and something conflicted passed over his face. “Now… I don’t-… But…” He clamped his mouth shut and dragged a hand over his face. After a long moment, he tried again. “I still have a duty to my people, whether or not I still _want_ to go back.” He stated firmly, then looked up and met Hakoda’s gaze challengingly.

Hakoda nodded acceptingly, which made Sokka want to gape and protest. But he reeled himself in just in time, remembering that this wasn’t Water Tribe versus Fire Nation. This was… a tribal dispute, being mediated by the Chief. “Will going back help your people?” He asked, doing his best to keep any judgement out of his voice.

Zuko glared at him. “You want _Azula_ as my father’s heir?” He asked darkly.

Sokka blinked, then winced. “Oh. Oh, wow. Okay, bad thought, bad thought.”

“Exactly.” Zuko drawled.

“Only…” Sokka began, mind racing. “Does what your dad wants even matter, if we’re going to kick his ass anyway?” He wondered. “I mean, it’s not like Aang’s going to stop him and then go ‘oh, yes, let’s put his psychopathic lightning-flinging mini-me on the throne, that’s a great idea’, you know?” He paused, and realised who he was talking to. “Er… sorry?”

Ursa looked very sad and very tired. “Is she truly that bad?” She asked

“She tried to kill Uncle.” Zuko said quietly. Ursa winced.

Hakoda reached across the table and caught her hands in his. She looked at him, her expression hard to read. Hakoda seemed to understand though, because his smile was soft and full of compassion. “Not your fault, love.” He said quietly, full of sincerity.

Ursa swallowed. “I left her there, with that monster.” She glanced over at Zuko, and her smile twisted into something that was equal parts proud and sorrowful. “I knew you’d be strong enough to stay _yourself_ , no matter what Ozai did to you, but… Azula’s always been… such a fragile soul. I should have taken you both with me, but…”

“Father wouldn’t have let you.” Zuko said, voice hoarse.

Ursa grimaced and looked down.

Sokka was just trying to put _Azula_ and _fragile_ together in a way that made any sense at all. It wasn’t working all that well. “So, ignoring that horrific little piece of family drama,” he began, and ignored the stink-eye Zuko favoured him with, “what you’re telling me is that you don’t want your dad fucking over the world any more than we do.” He concluded.

“My father-” Zuko began heatedly, and then stopped.

Sokka watched him, wondering at the conflict he could see chasing itself over Zuko’s face. He clearly still wanted to defend his father, which Sokka could kind of understand in an abstract sense, as long as he was thinking of _Zuko’s father_ and _not_ Fire Lord Ozai. But he _wasn’t doing_ , and that was a pretty big change from the persistent and persistently angry Prince Jerk-bender that had chased them across the world.

A thought – a horrible, terrible, kind of _awesome_ thought – occurred to Sokka, and he jolted upright where he sat, staring at Zuko, because Zuko was a _fire-bender_. Zuko stared back, eyes narrowed and wary, and Sokka almost blurted out his terrible idea right then. He thought better of it at the last moment, and clamped his mouth shut. Zuko might not be instinctively defending his father anymore, but there was a world of difference between that and being willing to admit the crazy asshole needed to be stopped. And an even bigger difference between that and being willing to _help_ stop him.

“Oh, no. I recognise that face.” Ursa murmured. “What crazy scheme did you just come up with, then?” She asked, long-suffering and fond.

Sokka glanced at his dad, who grimaced with playful sheepishness, then at Ursa, who raised an eyebrow with a very mum-like stern patience. It hurt, because she wasn’t _his mum_ , but at the same time, something came loose in his chest, flooding him with a sense of relief and tentative hope. He had a mum again, and that… that was _good_. He smiled at her, a little rueful and a little hopeful, and cleared his throat. “Not a crazy scheme.” He lied. Ursa seemed a little too taken aback by whatever she’d read off his face a moment ago to call him on it, so he pressed on. “Just… wondering…” He said slowly, turning a wary stare on Zuko.

“What?” Zuko snapped, bristling.

“Well… it sounds to me like you… kind of need to figure a load of stuff out, right?” Sokka checked. Slowly, Zuko nodded. “Okay, so… while you’re doing that, can we agree to a ceasefire? Like, you don’t chase us, we won’t tie you up and hang you upside down from a tree. And if you do decide you really do need to capture Aang for your people or whatever, you’ll tell us first?”

For a long moment, no one said anything. Then, Zuko nodded once, sharp and almost angry. “I can do that.” He confirmed.

“Awesome!” Sokka cheered, pumping his fist in the air. “Welcome to the family, brother!” He announced dramatically, just for the way Zuko recoiled and stared at him as though he’d grown an extra head and started speaking lemur.

Hakoda put a hand on Sokka’s shoulder, the other hand falling on Zuko’s. Sokka only looked over at his dad, grinning, but he could see the way Zuko tensed up, like he was expecting an attack. It made his grin maybe just a little less bright than it could have been, and the look on his dad’s face sobered him up further. Not because Hakoda looked unhappy, but because there was such fierce pride and gratitude in his eyes that it made Sokka feel simultaneously a hundred feet tall, and too small to be worthy.

“Thank you.” Hakoda said, simple and honest, looking between Sokka and Zuko to make sure they knew it was directed at both of them. “I’m proud of you both.”

Sokka smiled, bashful and proud all at once, but Zuko’s face scrunched up in confusion. “What? Why?” He asked.

Hakoda’s brow furrowed a little bit, but he answered Zuko plainly anyway. “Because you both took the time to try and understand each other, to listen, and accept each other’s limits. Because Sokka,” Hakoda glanced at him and smiled his acknowledgement, “had the compassion to know better than to ask for more than you could give. And because you had the honour to agree to give them due warning if it turns out your differences are too great.”

Sokka didn’t think his dad had said anything all that remarkable, even if he was feeling stupidly warm and fuzzy because of it, but Zuko… Sokka had to swallow, because the look on his face made him look ridiculously young. Vulnerable. That was the word. He looked _vulnerable_. And that made Sokka feel _really_ uncomfortable.

Hakoda sighed softly, and gave Zuko’s shoulder a small squeeze. “I know that I’m… not your father, Zuko, but… I think any man ought to be proud to have a son like you.” Sokka could hear what his dad wasn’t saying, and it made something small and jealous twist in his gut. He clamped down on it at once, knowing that was just as unfair to blame Zuko as it was to blame Dad. And besides, he thought with a glance across the table at Ursa, if he was getting to share Zuko’s mum, then sharing his own dad with Zuko was a pretty good bargain all round, really.

“I-…” Zuko began, and his voice shook faintly. He stopped, blinked rapidly, then tried again. “Thank you.” He said it quietly, but it was still clearly audible. Hakoda gave his shoulder another squeeze, then leaned back.

The emotional moment stretched out, turning sour with awkwardness the longer the silence drew on. Sokka opened his mouth to say something witty and inappropriate, when Toph beat him to the punch. “So… who gets to tell Crazy Blue Fire that she’s been trying to kill her step-siblings?” She asked from where she was still lounging behind Sokka.

Everyone at the table just stared at each other, no one quite willing to move while that question settled in each of their minds. Then Sokka gasped with delight, because he had so many _ideas_. “Dibs!”


	4. Azula

“Azula!”

Looking up from her maps, Azula called for Ty Lee to enter the tent. It wasn’t as large as Azula was used to, but if she wanted to move fast with a small unit, she had to make some sacrifices. Across the small room, Mai glanced up from sharpening her knives, before rolling her eyes at Ty Lee’s cartwheeling entrance, and going back to her work. “A courier just brought this letter for you.” Ty Lee announced, coming to a stop kneeling beside Azula’s chair, holding up a plain envelope on flat palms like an offering.

Ty Lee always knew how to improve Azula’s mood. She took the letter with a smile, even though she was vaguely perplexed by the fact it clearly wasn’t a scroll, which was favoured in the Fire Nation, or a military correspondence, as those would be on the thin fire-proof paper that worked so well with heat-sensitive ink for secret missives. It was addressed plainly, to ‘Princess Azula of the Fire Nation’, and when she flipped it over, Azula saw that the seal belonged to the Bei Fong family.

“Why would Earth Kingdom nobles from Gaoling be writing to me?” Azula wondered aloud.

“Gaoling?” Ty Lee inquired, bouncing to her feet and leaning over Azula’s shoulder to peer at the letter. “Where’s that?”

“South of the Si Wong Desert.” Azula informed her absently, breaking the seal and pulling neatly folded paper out of the envelope. She stared at the first line for a moment, bewildered to the point of speechlessness, which didn’t happen very often.

“Ooh, Mai, it’s from _Zuko_!” Ty Lee exclaimed gleefully.

Mai’s head came up again, her gaze sharp with interest. “Oh?” She asked, trying and failing to sound bored. Azula didn’t bring attention to it, though. Let Mai try to pretend she wasn’t still half in love with Azula’s foolish brother if she wanted to. Maybe Azula would even let her have the pieces once she’d finished breaking him. “What does it say?”

“ _Honoured sister_ ,” Azula began reading aloud.

“ _I would start with saying how I hope this letter finds you in good health and all of that, but I don’t really, and I feel like a lie would be a poor way to start such an important letter. So instead I’ll say that I’m pretty sure this letter will find you alive, since you’re annoyingly hard to kill._ ”

“That… doesn’t sound like Zuko at all.” Mai muttered, getting to her feet and coming to stand at Azula’s other shoulder.

“It is a bit more venomous than Zuzu usually gets…”Azula mused, squinting at the letter suspiciously.

“Maybe he’s still upset about you hurting General Iroh?” Ty Lee suggested.

“Maybe…” Azula mused. She was absorbed enough in her thoughts that she didn’t object when Mai tugged the letter out of her hand and carried on reading it herself. There was something about the choice of words that was irritatingly familiar. It didn’t sound like _Zuko_ , but it did sound like _someone_ , if only she could think _who_ would _dare_ to impersonate her brother, even in writing.

“ _As much as I honestly do wish some grisly fate upon you, I still feel that it’s my duty to inform you of news about our family, which is why I went to the trouble of writing this letter. You may already know this, because you would be cruel enough to know and not_ _**tell anyone** _ _, but-_ ” Mai stopped reading abruptly. Azula looked up to find her staring at the letter with shock written all over her paler-than-usual face.

“What?” Azula snapped sharply.

Mai gaped soundlessly for several long seconds, but she recovered herself before Azula had to ask twice. Good thing, because Azula _didn’t_ ask twice. She cleared her throat, and met Azula’s eyes as she repeated from memory; “ _-but Lady Ursa, our esteemed mother, is alive._ ” Going by the look on Mai’s face, she was wondering – the same as Zuko – if Azula had known that Mother wasn’t dead.

She’d suspected, of course. Or… _wondered_ , might be a better word, because she’d never quite thought about it. What did it matter, anyway? Dead or banished, it wasn’t as if she had any power over Azula anymore, so it was of no consequence. Except… Except there was a faint ringing in Azula’s ears, and she couldn’t _quite_ seem to find enough air.

It did matter. It _shouldn’t_ , so Azula ruthlessly squashed the part of her that _hurt_ at the thought of her mother _abandoning her_ like that. She shook away those stupid, _weak_ emotions, and gestured for Mai to keep reading. She didn’t, though, the letter dropping to her side in a limp hand while the other came up to massage the bridge of her nose. “Spirits, I can’t even imagine how Zuko must have felt…” She murmured.

Azula considered scorching her bangs off to remind her to _pay attention_ , but before she could succumb to the impulse, Ty Lee had twirled in, snatched the letter, and flung herself up onto one of the support poles, hanging upside down from her knees with the letter in front of her face.

“ _Whether or not that’s news to you, I’m fairly sure you don’t know that she’s in good health. I really do hope you have enough of a heart left to care about that, since she’s your_ _**mother**_ _. She’s well, and currently living in Ba Sing Se’s lower ring. Not the most glamorous of places, I know, but she seems happy here. Much happier than she was in the Fire Palace. She’s working as a scribe, which pays pretty well, since you probably don’t know but a lot of people here don’t know how to read and write._ ”

Ty Lee peeked over the bottom of the letter. “People in the Earth Kingdom don’t know how to write? But I thought they made a big deal out of their written contracts and stuff?” She asked, sweet and innocent in her confusion.

Azula rolled her eyes. “The _nobles_ keep written contracts. The peasants have to make do with verbal contracts. The Earth Kingdom nobles seem to think that keeping their subjects ignorant and dull is the way to keep their power, when actually it only ensures that the foundation of it is weak and easily broken.” She sneered. It was a good distraction from the turmoil making a mess of her insides. She felt… offended that Mother was _working_ at all, even if her work wasn’t as menial as it could be. But she _shouldn’t care_ whether her mother was alive or dead, working or slaving or lounging in the lap of luxury. She was _nothing_ to Azula anymore.

“Oh, that is pretty stupid.” Ty Lee agreed, then pitched her voice with an actor’s flourish as she began reading again. “ _The most important detail, and the reason I felt obligated to write to you, is that she has, this past autumn, remarried._ ”

“What?!” Azula snapped, losing her tenuous hold on her composure.

“That’s what it says.” Ty Lee confirmed, although she didn’t quite dare repeat it, watching Azula with wide, concerned grey eyes.

“Give it here.” Azula ordered, snapping her fingers in Ty Lee’s direction. The acrobat swung down in a graceful flip and bounded the two paces necessary to pass the letter back into Azula’s hands. Azula scanned the letter from the top until she found the paragraph that began with the sentence Ty Lee had just read. Of course Ty Lee had read it word for word, Azula knew that Ty Lee was loyal, and would never _dare_ lie about something like that to Azula’s face, but she had to see it for herself. She had to be _sure_.

“ _The most important detail, and the reason I felt obligated to write to you, is that she has, this past autumn, remarried._ ” Azula repeated out loud, her tone one of disbelief. “G _iven her banishment and status as a traitor to the Dragon Throne, she is, of course, legally dead within the bounds of Fire Nation, and therefore her marriage to Fire Lord Ozai is null and void. So not only was she free to marry again, but the marriage itself held to the traditions of not just the Fire Nation, but the Earth Kingdom and-_ ” Azula nearly choked on the words as she read them, horror and rage filling her as suspicion formed in her mind. “- _the Southern Water Tribe, as well._ ”

Ty Lee squeaked. Mai sucked in a sharp breath.

Azula felt everything inside her go deathly still at that confirmation. She was not the only one to pick up on what that might mean. If it had only said ‘the Water Tribe’ she might have passed over it as simple emphasis that _all_ traditions had been observed. Some of the more addled folk in the colonies did that, mixing and matching customs from everywhere for their weddings and funerals. But no, Zuko had specified _Southern_ Water Tribe customs. So to exclude the Northern Tribe meant the ones specified were important. Fire Nation customs because Ursa _was_ born and bred in the Fire Nation, a _noble lady_ of the Fire Nation, no less, and Earth Kingdom customs because she was living in Ba Sing Se, the very heart of the Earth Kingdom, and for their officials to consider it binding, she must observe their customs…

Which left only _one_ reason for the wedding to have included barbaric customs from the frigid south.

Azula wanted to set the letter _on fire_.

She didn’t, only through a profound effort at self-discipline, and because she needed to know _which_ Water Tribe barbarian she was going to have to _incinerate_ for _touching her mother_. The more rational, coldly logical part of her tried to protest that Ursa was as good as _dead_ to her, and so whatever scum she chose to lie with should mean nothing to Azula, but…

But, Azula rationalised, their family was tainted now. Father might be able to disavow Mother, but there was no way for Azula to deny that she shared the woman’s blood. And now there was every chance of a _Water Tribe brat_ sharing that blood, which was simply _unacceptable_.

“Perhaps one of us ought to finish reading that?” Ty Lee suggested. “I’d hate for it to go up in flames before you found out exactly who this guy is.” She pointed out. That was one of the reasons Azula liked her. Ty Lee was so good at understanding her thought process and anticipating her needs. Wordlessly, Azula let her take the letter again.

Thankfully, Ty Lee forwent any dramatics, and simply read the next paragraph. “ _Yeah, you read that right. Your new dad is Water Tribe. Specifically, he is Chief Hakoda of the Whale-shark Tribe, son of Kanna and Suluk, and temporary Chief of the united Southern Water Tribe._ ” She paused, blinking. “Well, at least she’s not marrying below her station?” She offered.

Azula considered burning her plat off, then gave in, and laughed. “One way or another.” She remarked caustically. Ty Lee blinked, and then caught on to the double meaning in what she’d just said, and giggled. Even Mai cracked a wry and faintly mean smile. “Is there more?” Azula asked, forcing herself to sound brisk and professional, even though she wanted to snarl the question.

Ty Lee nodded, and took the unspoken hint to keep reading. “ _I don’t know if there’s any point telling you more about him, as you probably don’t care to hear anything good about a Water Tribe Chief. But I will say that it’s clear he loves her very much, and personally I think he’ll make her a far better husband than Fire Lord Ozai. Chief Hakoda would never ask her to turn on her family, after all._ ” Ty Lee frowned and looked up. “What?”

“Oh, don’t be disingenuous, Ty Lee.” Azula snapped, getting to her feet because she couldn’t bear to sit still any longer. She paced the short length of the tent, trying to calm her mind and mostly failing.

“Fire Lord Azulon dies and Lady Ursa disappears the very same day?” Mai asked pointedly. “Oh, yes, I’m sure that was just a coincidence.” The sarcasm dripping from her words couldn’t be any more obvious, but Azula was still impressed that she’d managed to answer Ty Lee’s question without outright _stating_ things that could get her into trouble.

Ty Lee stared at her for a long, drawn out moment. “Oh.” She said, voice small. She looked back down at the letter, but didn’t seem inclined to keep reading. Azula snatched it out of her hands as she passed her.

“ _Which brings me to my final point. As much as we might hate it, we’re a family now, and that should matter. If nothing else, it should matter that our attempts to kill each other will upset our parents, even if we can’t bring ourselves to care for any other reason. Our mother would very much like to see you again, and our father would very much like to meet you. I could go without ever running into you again, but I can at least promise to hold to a truce while under our parents’ roof. Make of that what you will._

“ _Signed-_ ”

Azula stopped. And stared. And then reread the entire letter, feeling like she’d just been punched in the sternum. “What? How did Zuko sign it?” Ty Lee asked, bouncing on the spot in her curiosity and impatience.

“It’s not from Zuko.” Azula said, her voice sounding oddly distant to her own ears.

Mai caught on first. “Oh.” She breathed, and stepped up to Azula’s side to check the last line of the letter. She froze, whole body going still as she ran into the same brick wall of realisation that Azula had just encountered.

“What? What?” Ty Lee pressed, inserting herself against Azula’s other side to peer at the letter.

Mai cleared her throat, and said those horrible words out loud. “ _Signed, your not-so-loving new brother, Sokka, son of Kya and Chief Hakoda of the Southern Water Tribe._ ”

“Sokka?” Ty Lee echoed, sounding puzzled. “Isn’t that that cute Water Tribe boy with the- Ohh…” She trailed off wincing. “That’s awkward.” She observed. “And, oh, wasn’t the girl his sister or something? And she’s a water-bender. Didn’t Fire Lord Azulon decide to wipe out the Southern water-benders?”

“Capture.” Azula corrected. “In case the Avatar had been reborn.”

Ty Lee nodded, but her expression was still screwed up into a moue of discomfort. Azula agreed with her on that. She could barely begin to process the idea that her mother had _married_ \- Never mind that now apparently that Water Tribe idiot could call her _sister_.

“May I?” Mai asked, and Azula let her have the letter. It should be simple, she told herself, going back to her pacing. Kill the Water Tribe barbarian and his Avatar-loving spawn, and put their family back to rights. That should have been her first and _only_ thought. And the Water Tribe boy _had_ promised to a truce, had all but invited her in, and she could use that.

She consciously didn’t try to imagine the look on her mother’s face if she attacked the Water Tribe barbarians in front of her.

“There’s another sheet.” Mai said abruptly, and Azula looked up. Mai was rubbing at the corner of the paper, which came apart under her fingers, and she slid the front sheet away to look at the page beneath. She took one look at the paper, and pointedly averted her eyes. “It’s from Lady Ursa.” She explained, holding it out to Azula.

Azula snatched it from her with lightning quick fingers. It was a good thing Mai hadn’t read any of it, because Azula might have burned one of her hands in punishment, and then she would be down one expert knife-thrower, which would have been unfortunate. She recognised her mother’s handwriting even before she tried to focus on the words, and _hated_ the small burst of… something that filled her chest. Relief? Hope? Gratitude? Wonder? No. No, no, no. She was not pathetic, and she was not weak. _Zuko_ had clung to their mother’s skirts and gone along with all her useless _sentiments_. Azula was _above that_ , she was stronger than that, _better_ than that.

Her hands _did not_ shake as she finally read the letter.

_To my beloved daughter,_

_There is so much I wish to say to you, and most of it should be said in person. However, I do not know whether you wish to see me, or even if you could if you wanted to, so I shall have to make do with writing these things, and repeat them if and when I see you again._

_First of all, know that I am sorry. Perhaps you did not see my leaving as an abandonment, and perhaps you do not care for my apologies, but you have them, never the less. I left you behind, and for that I am so sorry. Know that I would have taken you with me, if I could. I was harsh, in our last conversation, and I regret that more than I can say. The only explanation I can offer is that I was scared. It is no excuse, but it is the truth. I was more frightened than I have ever been before, and I knew I had only limited time to act, to protect both Zuko and you. And I am sorry for not protecting you better. You may not understand me when I say I am sorry for not protecting you from Ozai, but I am._

_Secondly, know that I love you, and I will always love you, no matter what. I can be angry with your choices – and I am, Azula, I will not lie – and still love you more than the sun. You are my daughter, and I would kill for you in a heartbeat. It was not only to protect Zuko that I left my Marriage Blade buried in Azulon’s chest. I had hoped that if he gained what he desired, Ozai would allow you and your brother space, to grow as you pleased, rather than as pleased him._

_Last of all, I hope Sokka’s letter has not upset you too much. I know not what words to offer you, in explanation. Only this; one of the reasons I love Hakoda is because he has shown me, in all those little ways that matter most, that he loves his children fiercely, and would love mine just as much, if given the opportunity. Zuko, I think, is beginning to understand what that means, and where Ozai has wronged us all so terribly. I hope – and know that I have very little right to ask – that you will give him a chance, at least, to show you, as well, what Ozai has never, in all my years of knowing him, been able to give._

_As for his children, I do understand the awkward position my marriage has put you and your brother in, far better now than I did at the time, although I still would not take it back. I can only hope that the four of you will not do each other permanent harm, and I do know better than to ask any more of that from any of you, although you and Katara in particular, I think. (Oh, Azula, she does remind me of you, at times, the talented younger sister, privileged and burdened both by her power. And her hot-temper makes her cruel in ways I think you would appreciate, although she is as straight-forward as Zuko at his worst, even when she’s aiming to wound.)_

_Yours with love and hope,_

_Ursa_

Azula swallowed, and tore her stinging eyes away from the letter to find both Mai and Ty Lee watching her with solemn, expectant gazes. She didn’t know what to do, and that was more terrifying than even Father’s wrath. The echo of her mother’s voice rang in her ears. ‘ _Monster_ ’, Ursa had called her, and Azula had learned to wear the description with _pride_ , but… to know that her mother _regretted_ that, that she could write of apologies and love, turned everything on its head. The references to Ozai were confusing, frustrating, _irritating_ , but in that bit at the end she could _hear_ the sideways little smirk her mother might wear while saying it, the sneaky and dark-edged humour that would lace her voice.

She didn’t know what to _do_ about all of it, though. She _always_ knew what to do. Zuko was the one who flailed about, trying and failing to figure it out, always just a bit too slow, a bit too late. Unbidden, an old, old memory came back to her, when she’d said as much to her mother. She’d been four years old, and confused and disappointed by her older brother’s failed attempts at fire-bending when _she_ had already figured out the basics. ‘Give him time,’ her mother had said, smiling softly, ‘he doesn’t know what to do because he hasn’t figured out what he _wants_ yet. He’ll get there at his own pace, and so will you.’

Azula didn’t know what she wanted. Maybe she had never really known. She’d _thought_ she had, but if one little letter from her mother could send her into such turmoil, then everything she thought she’d known about herself was a lie. A dark, bitter smile curled her lips. She thought she’d chosen to follow in her father’s footsteps, since Zuko seemed to fit so much better in their mother’s shadow. But perhaps she’d missed a few things in her youth and inexperience. Perhaps the situation called for some reconnaissance, before she committed to a course of action.

“Pack your bags, girls.” She ordered, flipping the letter closed and planting the other fist on her hip. “We’re going to Ba Sing Se.”


	5. Hakoda

The sun cast glittering reflections on the surface of the bay, and Hakoda braced his forearms against the side of his ship to watch the waves. He kept half an eye on their surroundings, because he was not foolish enough to be caught unawares when he _knew_ the Fire Nation were in the area, but most of his mind was back in Ba Sing Se. With Ursa, who was radiant with the relief and delight in seeing her son again after five years – Hakoda still wasn’t sure how he had managed two, and Ursa still awed him with her quiet, steely strength – and finally knowing how both her children had fared. With Katara, who he hadn’t seen since that day on the train station platform almost a full week ago, when she’d accused him of betraying Kya.

That memory still made him wince. Even though he knew that Kya would have scolded him up one side and down the other if he’d let a new love pass him by for the sake of her memory, it still… lingered. That pain. The grief never really went away, just like Ursa’s wounds from _her_ previous marriage would remain. A different sort of pain entirely, but… that permanence was very similar. Similar enough that they could understand each other far more than Hakoda had felt with anyone else since Kya’s death.

He wished Katara could understand that, but he knew it would take time. Patience was something he could do, but it wasn’t always easy. He hated being the cause of Katara’s pain, and he hated that he had put her so at odds with Ursa. Of course, Ursa had laughed at him when he’d apologised for Katara’s behaviour. ‘You should have seen some of the tantrums Azula threw when she was little, that was nothing’, she’d said, and Hakoda hadn’t doubted her.

“You’re distracted.”

Hakoda blinked, and turned to see Bato propping his hip against the railing, arms crossed and a deeply unimpressed – if slightly amused – expression on his face. “Are you still worrying about Katara?” He pressed, when Hakoda decided that silence was the better part of valour. “Because you know there’s nothing you can do about that? She’ll come around to Xia in her own time, and it’ll only take longer if you push her.”

“I know.” Hakoda sighed. “I just don’t like discord in the tribe.” He grumbled.

Bato snorted. “Should have thought about that before you married _Fire Nation royalty_.” He pointed out, and Hakoda was glad to hear not a single trace of genuine scorn in Bato’s voice. Bato was the only one among the other warriors who knew the full truth of Ursa’s history. While the others knew that ‘Xia’ was Fire Nation, and had fled from an abusive marriage, they believed she was only half Fire Nation, and had been born and raised in the colonies.

If it had been Hakoda’s choice, he might have told them the full truth, because secrets among a tribe were a recipe for trouble, but it wasn’t. It was Ursa’s choice, and _she_ had grown up in the Fire Court, where secrets were the currency that mattered. Still, Hakoda was glad she’d agreed that Bato could know, because he needed _someone_ to talk to at times like this, and he was never more grateful for his best friend and his ability to put up with the trouble Hakoda dragged him into.

“She’s more than that.” Hakoda replied, aware that he probably sounded like a moon-addled teenager again, but unable to _quite_ bring himself to care.

“Yeah, yeah, so you’ve said.” Bato drawled between snorts. There was a beat or two of silence, and then he puffed out a sigh, and dropped a hand onto Hakoda’s shoulder. “She _will_ come around, you know. Katara’s been angry about Kya’s death for a long time, sure, but she’s _always_ had more compassion than sense. She gets that from her father.” He added dryly.

Hakoda grinned to himself, but didn’t let Bato see that he’d been reassured just yet. “It’s not just Katara, though.” He said, matching Bato’s tone.

“Oh? Sokka giving you trouble, too?” Bato asked, disbelieving.

“No, actually.” Hakoda admitted, unable to keep the pride from his voice. “He and Ursa got on really well after a few minor hiccups.”

“Then… Ursa’s boy?” Bato hazarded a guess, clearly unable to think about the Fire Prince being in Ba Sing Se without serious discomfort.

Hakoda sighed heavily, but he couldn’t help a faint smile, either. “No, he’s not being trouble either. He’s just wary. _So_ wary, and I don’t blame him one bit. I just hope I can… be enough of a good father-figure to him that he realises the way the Fire Lord treated him was _wrong_.”

“Ah.” Bato sighed in understanding. “What’s bothering you then?”

Hakoda eyed him sideways. “You try sitting down for dinner with the _Dragon of the West_ , while he cheerfully _doesn’t quite_ threaten you to be a good husband to the woman he loves like a sister and a good father-figure to the boy he loves like his own son or else.” He paused, to let the horror of that thought sink in. “And tell me how well _you’d_ be feeling, even a week afterwards.”

Bato shuddered, and muttered a quick prayer to Tui and La. “It gives me chills just _thinking_ that the Dragon of the West is _inside_ Ba Sing Se, and we weren’t even fighting when he was on the battlefield.” He admitted ruefully. “But you knew what you were getting into when you-”

Years of fighting side by side with the man had Hakoda turning to find the threat before Bato’s expression had even finished falling. It wasn’t the massive Fire Nation steam ship he was expecting, but the Fire Nation symbol was still proudly displayed on the small craft. It looked almost like a cross between those strange motorised water-skis some of the ships would deploy, and a small passenger craft.

And it was coming straight for them.

“ALL HANDS ON DECK!” Hakoda roared, “PREPARE TO ENGAGE!”

The mad scramble to battle stations didn’t last long, but the enemy craft was light and ridiculously fast, and it was within shouting distance before the last of Hakoda’s warriors had scrambled onto the deck. The door to the closed off cabin opened, and a _teenage girl_ stuck her head and shoulders out, offering a cheery wave. She was disarmingly cute, with a round face and large eyes, long brown hair in a plat and _pink_ clothes instead of the usual red or black. “Hi!” She called. “Are you Chief Hakoda?”

“That would be me.” Hakoda confirmed, too bewildered to manage anything else.

“Oh, good!” The girl exclaimed brightly. “We’ve been looking _all over_ for you. You were very hard to find, even though we knew you had to be around here _somewhere_.”

Hakoda had a _very bad feeling_ about this. “That is kind of the point.” He called back.

“Right!” The girl chirped, undaunted by the reminder that they were enemies. Then she vanished again, but not before Hakoda heard her trill a bright “Found him!” to someone else inside the cabin. That bad feeling Hakoda had was getting worse.

Sure enough, the next person to exit the cabin proved all his horrible suspicions right. The girl was younger than Katara, though not by much, Hakoda would guess, wearing a full set of the lighter Fire Nation armour more common on scouts than soldiers. And she looked a great deal like her mother. Sharper and younger, and her hair was even darker than Ursa’s dark brown, but it was _easy_ to see the resemblance.

“Koh’s lair.” Bato swore.

“Greetings, Chief Hakoda.” Azula said politely. The same polite tone Ursa used when she was _really_ angry with someone. “I have it on good authority that you know where I might be able to find my mother.” She stated, although with a clear air of expecting a response.

“ _Ohh…_ ” several members of Hakoda’s crew breathed in unison. Then they started muttering amongst themselves. Beside him, Bato slapped a hand to his face the way Hakoda _dearly_ wished he could, but he had to at least _try_ to appear more dignified than that. He also needed to figure out how on earth he was supposed to treat this girl. It was a fine line to tread, being a father-like figure, without actually acting like a father, which he was very certain would not go down well at all.

“I do.” Hakoda confirmed, running through all his options in his mind before settling on the one he thought was probably least likely to lead to disaster. “If you’ll come with us to that cove,” he nodded in the direction of a small, pebbly beach between the rocks that was far enough away from both where the Tribe usually moored, and the hidden docks of Ba Sing Se that he wasn’t risking revealing either, “I can send her a message that you’re here and to come meet you.”

“You won’t take me to see her?” Azula asked, far too innocently.

Hakoda snorted. “I won’t help Fire Nation get inside Ba Sing Se.” He informed her bluntly. “Even if I’m fairly sure you wouldn’t actually need my help.” He added dryly, thinking of how the Dragon of the West had managed to live for weeks within the walls without anyone so much as batting a lash.

Azula arched an eyebrow at him, an unreadable little smile on her face. “Very well.” She agreed, and somehow she managed to make it sound like it had been her idea all along and she was just humouring him, instead of the capitulation that it was. She gestured elegantly. “Lead the way.”

Hakoda did, although he made sure there was someone watching their backs on every ship. Once they were on the beach, he sent a runner with a hastily scribbled note to Ursa, unashamedly begging for a rescue. Then he was forced to face Azula. Most of his men had backed off to give them some space, though not so far that they couldn’t be there in a heartbeat if Azula decided to attack. Bato remained at his shoulder, though, tense and unhappy about the situation.

There were two girls with Azula, which, Hakoda realised, must be the friends Ursa had told him about, which would make the one in pink Ty Lee, and the bored-looking girl on Azula’s other side Mai. “Well,” Azula began, a hint of vindictive glee in her voice even as she tried to keep it mild, “isn’t this awkward.”

“Awkward as a turtle-duck on land.” Hakoda agreed, using Ursa’s phrase over the one he’d used all his life. As he’d half hoped, his response seemed to throw the Princess off for a moment. Her eyes widened, her polite smile faltering, and then the mask was back, like it had never shattered, except for the new gleam of calculation in her golden eyes.

“Oh, I know! Why don’t you tell us how you met Lady Ursa?” Ty Lee enthused.

“Yes, I’d quite like to hear that story myself.” Azula agreed. Mai just yawned.

Hakoda shrugged and went along with it. “We sometimes offer our protection to Earth Kingdom ships sailing to Ba Sing Se. Some of the Fire Nation pirates-” Azula bristled, glaring, and Hakoda raised a hand in apology. “ _Raiders_ ,” he corrected, and Azula subsided with a frown, “got past us and started harassing the passengers. My men and I boarded the Earth Kingdom ship to drive them off, but it turns out your mother had gotten there first. Two of the raiders were dead, and the others looked like they were considering throwing themselves over the side to get away from her.” He couldn’t help smiling at the memory. It hadn’t been quite as cliché as love at first sight, but he _did_ distinctly remember saying to Bato ‘wow, what a woman’. He _may_ have been speaking loud enough for Ursa to overhear him.

Azula looked… uncertain. It wasn’t the same sort of vulnerability Zuko had shown, but there was a distinct edge of bewildered indecision in her eyes, a touch of _fight or flight_ in the way she was holding herself very, very still. Finally she drew in a breath, and smiled smugly. “My mother might not be of Sozin’s line, but she _is_ an Imperial fire-bender, and her skills made her well worthy of her position as my father’s wife.”

“More than.” Hakoda agreed mildly.

Azula’s eyes narrowed sharply, hearing the unspoken slight directed at the Fire Lord. A sneer twisted her lips. “Her weakness for useless _sentiment_ , on the other hand, is the reason she was banished.” She added scathingly.

Hakoda breathed through the sudden surge of his temper. He’d never thought of himself as particularly short-tempered. The women of his family had always made him feel like a very mellow and reasonable sort of person, but Azula clearly had a whale-shark’s ability to smell the blood in the water. Well, if Azula wanted him angry, that was every reason for him to soothe back his temper and remind himself that she was his _step-daughter_ now. How would he talk to Katara, if she’d been saying things like that?

“I wouldn’t call caring about your children a weakness, myself.” He said evenly, offering Azula a patient smile. “In fact, I’d say that denying the bonds of family and refusing to open your heart to someone is the real weakness. It’s not _wrong_ to fear the things people can do to us when we trust them, but to let that fear stop you…” Hakoda shrugged fondly. “Ursa is many things, but she’s never been a coward.”

Azula rocked back on her heels like his words had been physical blows, which had not been Hakoda’s intent, although he couldn’t quite bring himself to regret it. At her side, Mai hissed a breath through her teeth, and Ty Lee grabbed at Azula’s arm, although whether that was to steady herself or the Princess, it wasn’t actually clear.

“I am _not_ afraid!” Azula snapped, before she’d managed to recover her composure.

Oh, Hakoda’s heart _hurt_ , hearing that. She sounded so _young_. Like Sokka, thirteen years old and begging to be allowed to come and fight with the rest of them. Like Katara, hands shaking as she worked through midnight to keep the nightmares at bay. And there was so much that she’d just admitted in that one furious denial. She knew it, too, because her face paled, and something much colder replaced her previous anger.

She didn’t look like a little girl anymore. She looked like an Imperial fire-bender, a daughter of Sozin’s line, ready and eager to burn the world to ashes. Still, Hakoda held fast to the memory of her face right after he’d spoken, the shock and fear that made her look her age. He smiled into the face of her wrath. “I am.” He admitted easily, catching her off-guard like he’d meant to. “There’s nothing scarier than offering your heart to someone and knowing that there’s nothing you can do if they decide to crush it. They might not even mean to. Sometimes-” He swallowed, and didn’t bother trying to keep the pain off his face or out of his voice. “Sometimes people leave, they die or get taken or forced away, even though they would have stayed, if they could.”

“Don’t talk to me like you know _anything_ -!” Azula snarled.

Hakoda could feel his expression turn hard without conscious input. “You’re not the only person who’s lost someone they love.” He told her, keeping his voice calm and level, despite his own pain and Azula’s clear desire to roast him on the spot.

“I don’t-” Azula began, then stopped, staring at Hakoda like she was actually seeing him for the first time. “Oh, you’re good.” She murmured viciously. “You’d fit _right in_ at the Fire Lord’s Court.”

Well, that was a compliment wrapped in an insult hidden inside a riddle. Hakoda had _no idea_ how he was supposed to respond to that, so he fell back on a trusted back-up plan; humour. “You don’t think the blue would stand out?” He asked innocently.

Azula blinked rapidly at him. Ty Lee giggled. Mai and Bato both groaned in disgust.

Silence swelled, and Hakoda wondered if another joke might break the awkward tension in the air, but before he could actually _say_ anything, Ursa finally arrived. He couldn’t help the way his shoulders slumped with relief, or the way just the sight of her made him feel stupidly warm and fuzzy on the inside. She had little more than a distracted smile for him, though, because most of her attention was on Azula. Her hurried glide across the pebbles slowed as she approached, but she didn’t actually stop until she was within arms reach of her daughter.

“Azula.” She said, voice thick with emotion.

Azula took a breath that shook. “Mother.” She greeted, and she was trying to sound strong and cold and unmoved, but Hakoda could still hear the fragile tremor beneath her cold fire.

Ursa made a small, devastated, delighted sound in the back of her throat, and tentatively reached out to pull Azula into a hug. Azula didn’t object, allowed herself to be held, but neither did she make any move to encourage or reciprocate. “You came. I didn’t know if- Oh, Azula. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I love you, I’ll always love you.” She said, words tumbling out in an uncharacteristic rush.

Over Ursa’s shoulder, Azula’s eyes were wide and glassy. And then, to Hakoda’s complete and utter shock, the tears spilled over, and Azula’s arms came up to return the embrace. She lowered her head to her mother’s shoulder – to hide the tears, Hakoda suspected, how very like her brother – and her hands became claws against Ursa’s back. “ _I hate you_.” She hissed, so quiet Hakoda could barely hear her.

Ursa shook, and Hakoda desperately wanted to hug her himself, but he held back for now, soothing himself with the promise of later. “I know.” Ursa said, both tears and a smile clearly audible in her voice. “That’s okay. It doesn’t change how much I love you.”

“Stop it.” Azula snapped, high and wavering. “Stop _saying that_.”

“I will repeat it as many times as I need to until you believe me.” Ursa replied simply.

Azula made a quiet, wounded sound. Somehow, her friends interpreted that as their cue, and silently slipped around the mother and daughter to approach Hakoda. “We should give them some space.” Ty Lee informed him, strangely subdued.

Hakoda considered that. “I think I’m going to stay here.”

“She’ll kill you for seeing this.” Mai warned him.

Hakoda smiled tiredly at her. “I’m not going to turn my back on her when she’s hurting.”

Mai eyed him for a long moment, before her deadpan expression lightened. It wasn’t anywhere near a smile, but Hakoda thought it looked like approval anyway. “Huh. If you survive, you might even be good for her.” She said, then caught Ty Lee’s arm and dragged her off, shooting a hard, pointed look at Bato as she passed him. When Bato glanced at him before taking the hint, clearly dubious about leaving Hakoda there when a clear threat had been made, Hakoda waved him off with a reassuring smile. Bato did not look reassured, but he went anyway.

After considering his options, Hakoda seated himself on a vaguely knee-height boulder that was close enough to Ursa and Azula to hear a normal conversation, but far enough that they had the illusion of privacy. By the time he was pulling out his whittling knife and his latest carving project, Bato had somehow managed to convince the rest of the men to disappear, along with the two Fire Nation girls. Hakoda made a mental note to do something nice for his friend, as a thank you for taking charge and handling that potentially volatile situation so that Hakoda could be there for his family.


	6. Ursa

Today had been a very long day. Not that Ursa wasn’t glad to have seen her daughter, and finally – _finally_ – managed to apologise for the way she’d left, but it _was_ exhausting. Azula had been a handful growing up, and she was worse now. They had parted amicably, at least, with promises to write. Azula had hinted that she was planning to return to the Fire Nation, which made Ursa suspect that she was, in fact, going to try and infiltrate Ba Sing Se. Or perhaps Azula had expected Ursa to think that, in which case, her hints had probably been the truth.

Ursa shook her head to herself, and poured another cup of ginger tea. She was over-tired, and five years out of practice at playing courtly intrigue. Better not to try and divine Azula’s intentions. Instead, she would wait and see what happened next, and pray her family came out of it in one piece.

When she’d received the message that her daughter was outside Ba Sing Se and waiting with Hakoda’s ships to meet her, she’d been terrified she’d get there to find the beach on fire and Hakoda dead amongst the ashes. But no, he’d been fine and even, if her ears hadn’t deceived her, cracking jokes. And Azula hadn’t set anything on fire, although she’d clearly been tempted a few times during their conversation. The fact that Ursa was also a fire-bender, and could probably put any fires she started out was the only thing that seemed to stop her on a couple of occasions.

Hakoda had promised, once they’d seen Azula, Mai and Ty Lee off – Ursa was glad those two had stayed; if there was one thing Azula needed more than anything else it was a couple of true friends – that he would try and make it back to the city for the night. Ursa appreciated it. She could really use her husband’s support and bad jokes right about now.

The worst part about seeing Azula was the way that, every now and then, an expression would cross her face that was so purely _Ozai_ that Ursa wanted to cry. No matter what Hakoda said, she hated herself a little for leaving her children with that monster. He’d injured them both in different ways, and Ursa would _kill him_ for that, if she thought herself capable. Azulon had been old, and easy to get the drop on. Ozai was in his prime, and quite a bit more cunning than Azulon had _ever_ been. Azulon had been ruthless and cruel, yes, but he was always very straightforward about it.

A knock at the door shook her out of her thoughts. It was probably uncharitable of her to think ‘oh spirits, what _now_?’ as she climbed to her feet and headed for the door, but she wasn’t in any mood to take it back. She was even less inclined to take it back when she opened the door and found Katara standing there, apparently alone.

She found a smile for the girl anyway, even if it probably did look tired and sad rather than the welcoming she’d been aiming for. “Katara. I wasn’t expecting to see you until the weekend.” She said as she stepped out of the way to let the girl in.

“I… wanted to talk to you without my dad around.” Katara admitted stiffly, glaring around the room. She didn’t seem at all softened by the Water Tribe decorations that Hakoda had added over the last few months. “Or Sokka. He wandered off with Toph for a while, to give us a chance to talk.”

“I see.” Ursa murmured politely, even though she wasn’t entirely sure she did. “Tea?” She offered, because manners were important.

“Sure.” Katara agreed shortly. She gave the teapot a deeply suspicious look as Ursa poured Katara a cup and refilled her own. When Ursa settled back at the table and wrapped her hands around her newly steaming mug, Katara reluctantly joined her, sitting across from her and toying with her own cup, fidgety and pensive. “Sokka told me that you killed Fire Lord Azulon.”

Ursa nodded. “I did.”

“I thought he died in his sleep.” Katara fired back, eyes narrowing.

Ursa smiled, although it felt sharp on her face, and clearly looked less than friendly to Katara, because she leaned back a little bit, and then, with very deliberate casualness, stirred her tea with a graceful swirl of her hand in the air. “Very, very few nobles of the Fire Nation die of natural causes, Katara.” Ursa informed her, ignoring the silent threat. “Azulon died in his bed, certainly, and he _was_ asleep before I woke him with my blade at his throat, so that he would know who had killed him, and why.”

Katara absorbed that, then frowned. “Why?”

“That… is a complicated question.” Ursa said finally. “And it ties into a lot of my history that you don’t know.”

“You’re Fire Nation.” Katara stated coldly.

“Yes.” Ursa confirmed. “I’m always surprised at how long it takes people to notice,” she said, gesturing at her eyes, “and it takes them even longer to reach the logical conclusion. Then they’re far too easily put off by a story about an Earth Kingdom mother and the pirate raids along the coast.”

Katara’s expression turned hard. “ _Fire Nation_ raids.” She stated, and the ‘ _your_ people’ behind it was loud and clear.

It was not an easy accusation to answer, and Ursa thought her words over carefully before she said anything. “Yes.” She agreed finally. “In that particular case, I won’t argue that the Fire Nation is at fault.”

“That _particular case_?!” Katara demanded furiously.

“Mm.” Ursa hummed. “Under Sozin and his son and grandson, the Fire Nation has committed many atrocities. And before Sozin it was the Earth Kingdom that pillaged and raped its way across the continent, under Conqueror Chin’s command. And before Chin, it was the pirate hordes of Chief Kalea looting and murdering up and down the coast. And before that it was the devoted zealots of the Living-Earth-Mother, Queen Nitocris. And before _that_ it was the Yu Yan-” Katara made a triumphant sound, like she hadn’t even registered any of Ursa’s other points. Ursa gave the girl a stern look. “- _air-benders_ and their founder, Taiyari.”

Katara gaped at her. “The Yu Yan aren’t air-benders!”

“Not anymore.” Ursa agreed sadly. “But once, the Yu Yan archers were the terror of the skies. After their defeat they disbanded and vanished into the other three nations. As far as I’m aware, the Fire Nation is the only place they maintained most of their customs. The accounts of their origins are old, and rare, but they have some preserved documents here at the university, if you doubt my sincerity.”

That, at least, seemed to give Katara pause. She stared down at her tea while she marshalled her thoughts. “How do you know about all of that?” She asked, still suspicious, but with less hostility than before. “I’ve heard of Chin the Conqueror, but…”

“I like my history.” Ursa admitted with a faint smile. “I’m more fond of myths and legends, but I know the darker side of history, too.” She paused to sip her tea. “I like to learn about a time when my people weren’t the enemies of the world. It gives me hope that all has not been lost for my people. The other Nations have treated the world just as horribly, and yet life goes on, their people continue, and most of them keep trying to do good.”

Katara opened her mouth, then stopped and frowned. “You distracted me.” She accused, although with less venom than Ursa honestly expected. “Why did you kill Azulon?”

“Simple answer?” Ursa offered, and when Katara nodded, she offered her a gentle smile full of irony. “He threatened my children.”

Everything about Katara seemed to soften at that, anger draining out of her like the tide. “And what’s the complicated answer?” She asked after a moment, glancing up with a challenging expression that just dared Ursa to try and dodge the question again.

Ursa found she couldn’t actually meet Katara’s eyes while she tried to tell the story. She looked down at her tea. “It started, I suppose, when I got engaged to a very charming young man.” She began carefully. “I was an only child, and my parents were minor nobles who pinned all their hopes for political ascension on me. I was shown off at parties and banquets, but most noble boys…” She trailed off, and shrugged ruefully. “But that is a poor excuse for why I fell for my husband’s charms. And I did fall for them. Hard. I thought he was… well, like me, I suppose. A second son, with no real power of his own, used as a game piece by his father to accrue more influence.”

“But he wasn’t?” Katara asked shrewdly.

Ursa pursed her lips. “Well, he was, but where I had learned compassion, to treat those below me as more than just pieces to step on to get myself higher, he had learned cruelty. And he wanted, above all else, to have power over those who presumed to control him.” Here she smiled bitterly, and shook her head. “And when he misstepped, and Azulon ordered him to kill his son in penance, he was going to do it.”

“Kill his-!” Katara gasped, hands flying to cover her mouth. “And he-!”

“Now, after five years to reflect, I begin to wonder if Azulon hadn’t meant for him to simply give up his son, adopt him out to his brother, but either way, Azulon’s order was ambiguous enough that my husband decided to kill two birds with one stone, and get rid of ‘the embarrassment’ _and_ get back into his father’s good graces at the same time.”

There was a long, drawn out silence.

“His… father’s…” Katara breathed, horrified realisation dawning on her as she said those two condemning words. “You-!” She began, but seemed to choke on her next words. “You _married_ -! You were the-! Your _son_ is-” And she stopped. And _stared_.

Ursa looked up at her at last, but saw only shell-shocked disbelief on Katara’s face, nothing more telling. “Yes.” She said, hesitating before going on. “I married Fire Lord Ozai. Although, at the time, he was only Prince Ozai, and by the time he was crowned, I had already been banished.”

Katara took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “The Fire Lord was going to kill his own son.” She stated in tones of disgust.

“Yes.” Ursa confirmed. “And despite committing treason to protect my children, all that did was leave me banished and unable to protect them when Ozai turned my daughter into his perfect little soldier, and branded and banished my son simply for speaking up in defence of his people.”

Katara recoiled. Her hand flew up to her left eye, and when Ursa nodded wordlessly, she blanched and went pale. “His own _dad_ did that to him?!” She gasped, horrified. Then her expression hardened. “I always knew the Fire Lord was a _monster_.” She spat.

“Quite.” Ursa agreed with a hint of dark humour.

For a moment, Ursa wondered if her humour was in bad taste, but then Katara smiled, a grim, knowing sort of smile. The moment settled, and they both finished off their tea in the comfortable silence that followed. Ursa refilled their cups without speaking, resolved to give Katara the time she needed to process everything. Katara quietly thanked her for the tea, then abruptly groaned and buried her face in her hands. “I just can’t _believe_ this.” She complained.

“Which part?” Ursa asked kindly.

“My dad married the Fire Lord’s _ex-wife_!” Katara burst out, incredulous and pained. Ursa raised an eyebrow at her, waiting for her to realise the implications of what she’d just said. Slowly, Katara began to put the pieces together. “That’s… going to really piss the Fire Lord off, isn’t it?” She asked slowly.

Ursa raised her teacup to her lips to hide her vindictive smile. “Probably.” She said blandly.

Katara stared at her as Ursa sipped carefully at her tea, then lowered it again, carefully maintaining a straight face as she did so. A tiny giggle escaped Katara, and then she clapped her hands over her mouth in a futile attempt to muffle her laughter. “Oh, Tui and La, that’s… that’s actually _really_ funny.”

“You father thought so, too.” Ursa muttered, unable to hide her smile any longer. “After he got over the shock.” She sighed at the memory. It was a good one, full of laughter and love. She’d had too few of those before Hakoda, and too many to count since she’d met him. “And just to be clear,” she went on, her tone serious enough to catch Katara’s attention, “your father really is a _thousand times_ the man Ozai _wishes_ he could be.”

Katara’s smile slipped sideways into something strangely rueful. “You… really do love him, don’t you?” She asked, quiet and sad.

Ursa blinked, caught off guard by the sudden melancholy beating off Katara in palpable waves. “I- Yes, I do.” She replied.

“I’m sorry.” Katara said, and then sniffed like she was trying not to cry. “Sokka was right, it’s not- it’s not fair of me to blame you, but I just…” She choked on a laugh that sounded terribly close to a sob. “I just miss _my_ mum. I want her _back_.”

Ursa wasted no time in sliding around the table until she could pull Katara into a hug. Katara went stiff for a moment, then seemed to melt all at once, hugging Ursa back with surprising force. “You don’t have to be sorry for missing your mother, Katara.” Ursa murmured into dark hair. “And you’re allowed to be angry that she’s gone, that she was taken from you. I only hope that you can come to see me as an ally, not your enemy.”

Katara sniffed again and drew back, and Ursa was surprised to notice that it didn’t seem like any tears had been shed. Katara’s eyes were wet, but the tears hadn’t spilled over. “Well, you _did_ murder the man who ordered my mother’s death, so…” She said, cracking a grin. When Ursa let out a startled but pleased laugh, Katara’s grin softened into a smile. “Yeah, I think-”

There was a knock at the door. Ursa rolled her eyes, and cursed the spirits for their idea of good timing. Katara grinned. “I think it’s probably Sokka.” She offered, and when Ursa stood and opened the door, she found that Katara was right.

“Hi!” Sokka exclaimed brightly, something a little manic in his eyes. “Did you tell her about the Fire Lord, yet?”

“Sokka, I thought _you’d_ told me about the Fire Lord.” Katara said, in a tone of growing suspicion.

Ursa kept a straight face only through sheer force of will as Sokka blanched, and looked nervously over his shoulder. “Uh, yeah, totally.” He said awkwardly. “I mean, I should- give you two more time to- chat. And _not_ kill each other. That’d be… really good. Maybe Toph should stay here to mediate-”

“Don’t exaggerate.” Ursa chided mildly. “Katara hasn’t even tried to drown me _once._ ” She mused, stepping back to let Sokka inside. He didn’t seem to want to take the hint, and dithered in the doorway. “A few angry words are the _least_ of what I’ve had to deal with today.”

“Yeah, but-” Sokka began.

“But what, Sokka?” Katara asked, coming up to stand at Ursa’s shoulder, arms crossed and a deeply unimpressed expression on her face. “What did you think I was going to do to the woman who _picked Dad over the Fire Lord_?”

Sokka blinked at her rapidly for a moment. “She-! You-! Argh! You’re _evil_.” He accused. Then raised his voice a little as he stepped inside, jostling his sister with his shoulder in a petulant sort of revenge. “Okay, I think it’s safe, guys!”

“Excellent!” Iroh’s voice preceded him into the apartment, and Katara stiffened as Zuko came into view over Iroh’s shoulder. Ursa couldn’t help but smile, though. He looked stiff and angry, but Ursa knew her son, and she knew the difference between his true anger, and the way he tried to hide his insecurities. He was _nervous_ , not angry, so she pulled him into a hug the moment he was in arm’s reach. “It is very lovely to meet you properly this time, Katara.” Iroh was saying, as Zuko clung to Ursa as though to reassure himself that she really was there, and she hadn’t vanished since he’d seen her yesterday.

“Uh-huh.” Katara drawled.

“Oh, get over yourself, Sugar Queen. Uncle’s nice.” Toph interjected.

“ _Uncle_?!” Katara echoed incredulously.

“I would be most honoured if you would consider me your uncle.” Iroh announced, as if Katara’s question had been jealous, rather than infuriated. “Ursa is as good as a sister to me, and it would be a delight to count her family among my own.”

Zuko finally drew back and let Ursa usher him into the apartment and close the door behind them. “Katara, would you like to help me with dinner?” Ursa asked over the bubbling chaos that had spilled into her apartment.

“Yes.” Katara said quickly, grateful for the excuse to dart around Iroh and over to Ursa’s side. Only once she was there did she register that it meant she was in close proximity to Zuko. Her eyes narrowed sharply. “You’d _better_ not cause any trouble, because if you think-”

“Whoa, calm down, sis!” Sokka called over some conversation about the tea market in the Earth Kingdom. “Our new brother has agreed to a truce as long as we’re in the family home, so don’t go starting any fights, or Dad’s going to be pissed.”

“ _Mum’s_ going to be pissed.” Zuko corrected, shooting Ursa a look from the corner of his good eye.

“I would. I finally managed to buy an apartment of my own, so I would _hate_ for it to get burned down or water-logged.” Ursa agreed.

“Hmph. Fine.” Katara huffed. “Is _he_ going to be helping with dinner too?” She asked Ursa, pointedly _not_ asking Zuko. Ursa had a feeling there was a right and wrong answer to that question, and she had a feeling it wasn’t the one she might have expected it to be.

“Yes.” Ursa said, and was pleased to see that it _was_ the right answer. She led the pair of them into the small kitchen and started flipping through her small notebook of recipes to find something that would feed… Oh, spirits, at least six, possibly seven.

“Just don’t ask me to make the tea.” Zuko groused, accepting the box of eggs Ursa passed him from her pantry and passing them to Katara, so that he could take the vegetables Ursa was holding out.

“Hey, if we’re staying for dinner, we should invite Aang!” Sokka suggested.

Battle-honed reflexes were the only things that saved their dinner from ending up splattered all over the kitchen floor, and two voices shouted “No!” in perfect unison.

“Aw, come on, guys. It’s not fair to leave Aang out!” Sokka protested.

Iroh cleared his throat. “Perhaps Miss Be Fong and I could keep the Avatar company. That way he need not be left alone, and the four of you can have a nice family dinner together.” He suggested. It was a good idea, and no one had any real objections, so after Zuko had reluctantly let his Uncle hug him, and Toph had punched all three teenagers in the arm hard enough to make them wince, they left.

“So!” Sokka clapped his hands together, then rubbed them like an evil genius. Ursa wondered if it was as clear to Katara as it was to her just where he’d picked up that mannerism. “Dinner! How can I help?”

Three minor disasters and one successfully made stir-fry later, Hakoda arrived home, looking worn out but relieved, only to pause when he spotted Katara. He opened his mouth to speak, but Katara beat him to it. “I’m sorry.” She said quickly, wringing her hands together and not quite meeting her father’s eye. “Dad, I’m sorry about… what I said before.”

Hakoda huffed a happy little laugh, and hugged her. “Thank you, Katara.”

When Katara let go, Hakoda made a beeline for Ursa, and she put the stir-fry down on the table just in time to turn into his embrace. He was warm and solid in her arms, and he nuzzled into her hair with a little hum of contentment, before she tipped her face up to offer him a proper welcome home kiss.

“Dad, no! _Stoooop_!”

“Oh, _ew_ , gross!”

“Urk, do you _have to_?”

They only stopped kissing because Hakoda was laughing too hard to continue. Ursa rolled her eyes at him, but her own smile gave her away. She hummed thoughtfully, giving Hakoda a considering look. He met her look with happy curiosity, and the sheer perfection of the moment made Ursa feel more than a little playful. “Yes. Yes, I think I do have to.” She informed their kids, and promptly kissed her husband again. Ever in favour of a good prank, Hakoda made sure to kiss her back quite thoroughly.


End file.
